An Old Comrade
by DZ2
Summary: One-Shot: After Sirius' death, Harry seeks to escape the hand that fate has dealt him: however, when a one-night stand brings new opportunities and stunning revelations, can Harry still manage to free himself from the Prophecy's bonds? Darkish Harry; Harry/OC; Based on an idea from TVs 'The Mentalist'


An Old Comrade: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters; all rights belong to JK Rowling; any references made to other fandoms are also not mine; all rights belong to their original creators.

**Plot: **After Sirius' death, Harry seeks to escape the hand that fate has dealt him: however, when a one-night stand brings new opportunities and stunning revelations, can Harry still manage to free himself from the Prophecy's bonds?

**Author's Note: **Okay, so there'll be a few of you who recognise this one for what it is; after having my inspirations take more ups and downs than a roller-coaster, I decided to shift a few options with this one and give it another go. I do have ideas of where I want it to go, so just be patient and trust me.

And, as always, if you don't like it, then don't read it!

**Added Note: **This one is a one-shot that will pass onto a sequel that I will write once I have my other work at a point where I feel comfortable going onto the next step. However, I would appreciate it if my reviewers and friends _didn't_ badger me about the sequel: with all the ideas that I have going around in my head, I find it hard enough to focus on one piece at a time, so _please_ don't keep asking me when it's up. I'll post it when I can and, for now, I hope you enjoy this prelude piece.

**Dedication: **I'd like to dedicate this story to everyone that continues to let the fires of my inspiration burn brighter and brighter; my recommended reads for this story are _Black Magic _by Undercover Operative and _Dark Moon _by moonfeather58: two amazing stories out of the hundreds I've favoured in my time.

**Key Pairing: **Harry/OC

Normal Speech

'Thought'

_**An Old Comrade**_

Harry was willing to bet that if he looked up the word _fickle_ in the dictionary, he'd find a nice little picture of the Daily Prophet's newspaper editor as well as the Minister alongside it.

Just a few months ago, they'd been calling him a liar, a glory hound and other such names under the sun; and now, all because Cornelius Fudge, the idiot that he was, had seen Voldemort in person in the Ministry Atrium, they were hailing him as their saviour again and calling him The Chosen One.

That made him laugh: they had no idea of the pain he went through and the losses he'd suffered to be hailed as their saviour; they'd _briefly _mentioned that Sirius' name had been exonerated, but it didn't change anything: Sirius had still died.

And, worse into worse, Harry had also been forced to play the public spectacle and stand there, listening to droning reporters asking him stupid questions and, when he'd tried to get a word in edge-wise, who had called himself Harry's voice?

Albus bloody Dumbledore; that's who!

Then, when they'd eventually gone back to Hogwarts, he'd made up some cock-and-bull story about blood wards and all but blamed Harry for Sirius' death before revealing the reason for the trouble in the first place: Severus 'I-Can't-Let-Go-Of-My-Hate-For-A-Dead-Man' Snape!

So, when Harry had gone back to Privet Drive, he'd waited for the dead of night, using both wit and skills that had come from years of ducking and diving Dudley and his cronies and he'd all but spirited himself away into the night. Since then, Harry had rented a room within a shady hotel room on the outskirts of London and managed to avoid detection with help from an unseen advocate.

Whoever it was, Harry was thankful for them.

"Harry Potter…"

Harry's blood suddenly ran cold as he heard a voice use his name: had someone found him?

Looking over the paper, Harry was both awed and a little relieved to see an attractive young girl with dark skin and darker hair looking at him; she was dressed in Muggle clothes and held a pad in her hand.

'Of course,' Harry thought, remembering then where he was: sitting on the Underground in a Whistle-Stop Café about to have a bite to eat, 'She's a waitress: stupidity there, Harry…Moody's instincts are getting to you.'

"Who's Harry Potter?" asked the girl, a warm, welcoming smile crossing her face as Harry lowered the paper.

"No-one," he lied, trying to avoid a blush creeping over his cheeks as he realised this girl was actually pretty nice-looking, "Bit of a tosser."

The girl gave a soft laugh, a pen in her hand, as she looked to Harry before she added, "Funny that paper of yours; a couple of nights ago, I could swear that I saw one of the pictures move."

Harry just laughed and nodded in unspoken agreement with her disbelief as she added, "Thought I was going around the twist…anyway, hungry?"

"Just a sec," Harry laughed, reaching for the menu when, to his surprise, the girl leaned in close, her hair falling around her shoulders and giving her a rather devilish, but beautiful look.

"Between you and me," she whispered, "Food here's a bit naff; only somewhere you can eat if you don't really care. I know a place, though: I could show you…maybe you could tell me a bit more about that tosser, Harry Potter."

"Oh," Harry gasped, a part of him wondering what area of heaven he'd just walked into – he _was_ a teenage boy after all – as he answered her, "Okay…yeah, sure; thanks: I'm…James."

"Alicia," the girl answered, giving him a wink as she added, "How about I get you a hot chocolate…until I finish…_on the house?_"

She whispered the last part and Harry could only smile and thank her silently as he sat back in his chair and, reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a mint and lightly sucked it as he tried to freshen his breath.

Suddenly, a feeling of prickling ran up his spine and, as Harry looked out the window, he saw the lights flickering with some sort of electrical interference.

A sense of foreboding crept up Harry's spine as he rose and, moving away from the window, he whispered, "Oh no you don't; you're not taking this chance from me…hey, Alicia?"

"Yeah?" asked the girl.

"Hate to be a bother," Harry answered, "But…you got a toilet in here?"

"Round the side," Alicia replied, earning a nod of thanks from Harry as he walked around to the in-store facilities.

However, had Harry looked back, he would have seen Alicia watching him before she reached into her pocket and withdrew a long, thin wand that she flicked around the room, her eyes filled with determination and focus as she cast her magic.

_**An Old Comrade**_

"Wow! What a night!"

"Yeah," Alicia laughed as she walked with Harry arm-in-arm away from a local nightclub that they had attended, Harry's steps a _little_ shaky, but otherwise all right. "I don't much care for new bands or music, but them…they were okay."

"Could have picked a better name than Snakebite, though," Harry reasoned, turning off the main road and walking towards his hotel, either oblivious to the obvious fact that this girl he'd just met walked with him…or not caring.

"Got a problem with snakes?" asked Alicia as they left the distant noise of the club behind.

"Let's just say…we don't get on," Harry answered, opening the door to the hotel and, after saying a hello to the porter, he turned before he asked, "So…is this good-night then?"

With an almost playful smile that made Harry's heart leap while his blood ran cold with a thought of a certain Death Eater he knew and loathed, Alicia asked, "Do you _want_ it to be…James?"

Harry shook his head, a slightly-pleased smile crossing his face as Alicia followed his lead up to his room and into the sitting area where he flicked on the television just in time for a late-night movie.

Making two cups of tea, Harry returned and handed one to Alicia before he asked, "So…do you have a last name?"

"Calico," Alicia explained, her voice soft as she drank her tea, Harry sitting next to her where he put his arm around her shoulders and let her rest on his shoulder, "How about you, James? Do you have a last name?"

"Evans," Harry answered, feeling a bit awkward with lying to this girl, but he'd much as sooner be someone else right now…ergo, he had become James Evans. "A common name…"

"But you're not a common guy," Alicia laughed, placing her cup down as they watched the movie.

It was a slash horror of some sort and, every time something scary happened, Alicia's head disappeared into Harry's chest, earning her a soft smile from the young wizard while his teenage hormones were driven into high gear. Never before, not even when he'd kissed Cho in the Room of Requirement – if you could call that tear-soaked, pity-seeking sorry excuse for intimate contact a kiss – had Harry felt so comfortable by the presence of another person with him.

And yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Alicia: she hadn't asked him a single awkward question all night and, whenever Harry saw her smile, he felt like everything was going to be all right. He didn't know why, but it was something that he just knew to be true.

When it was over, he stroked her hair gently before he told her, "It's okay…you don't have to be afraid; they can't hurt you…I won't let them."

Alicia looked into Harry's eyes as he said the last part; he must have noticed it too because he suddenly flew from her side, rising quickly and clearing his throat as he muttered, "I'm sorry…I shouldn't say that…"

"I'm not embarrassed," Alicia explained, lifting herself from the chair before she put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder as she told him, "I trust you, James; you're definitely _not_ a common guy, I could tell that when I saw you. So don't be so afraid to…be what you are: I saw how you looked at me and it's okay: I don't bite."

Despite the fears of letting someone else in, Harry couldn't help but smile at the feel of someone who was here to be here for him: they weren't here for prestige, value, personal gain or anything like that.

Not like his _so-called_ friends, anyway.

"It's not that," Harry sighed, lowering his head and holding his near-empty cup in his hands, "It's…it's complicated: everyone that…that's gotten close to me…before now; they…they get hurt and…it's my fault. I don't…I don't want to hurt anyone else, but…things change."

"Yes they do," Alicia agreed, her voice soft as she turned him around and took the cup from his hands, setting it down on the table as she added, "You've been snared, James: this time, it's you getting close to someone else…to me. And I'm not afraid of being hurt; I'll keep you close, safe…free."

She practically whispered the last part as her lips brushed against Harry's, the young wizard's eyes closing and his body almost relaxing as Alicia held him in her arms, her lips dancing with his while her hands removed his clothes.

A part of Harry seemed to notice her intentions as he asked himself, 'What am I doing?'

And yet, at the same time, the other part of him seemed to dominate these doubts as he pushed them aside for a two-worded response;

'Who cares?'

Certainly not him…

_**An Old Comrade**_

A warm smell of fresh cooking roused Harry from sleep the next morning, his eyes straining against the light that burned; slipping his glasses from the bedside table, he actually smiled when he saw Alicia, dressed in her trousers, but leaving her top bare to him, bringing breakfast into the room.

"Morning," he whispered, watching as she sat down with him, setting a plate of fresh breakfast in front of him.

"Good morning, sleepy lover," Alicia smiled, placing a gentle kiss against his lips as she asked, "Did you sleep well?"

"Ugh…" groaned Harry, pulling himself up as he tucked into his breakfast, "Best night's sleep I've had in months…"

And it was true as well: for the first time in a long time, his mind hadn't been plagued by nightmares or fears of Voldemort coming through the door. Instead, he was just content to be with this girl, her intentions taking him _all the way_ while, at the same time, Harry admired how willing and open she had been to him.

As he tucked into the breakfast, a feeling of contentment crossed Harry's face as he muttered, "Mmm…this is really good."

"I'm glad," Alicia whispered, watching him eat before she asked, "Are you…feeling anything else…about last night?"

"Well let's put it this way," Harry sighed, lifting his head and placing a return kiss on Alicia's lips, which she closed her eyes in acceptance of before Harry asked, "When can I see you again, Alicia?"

"Well…" she seemed to give a look of awkward emotions as she asked, "Who's asking me? James Evans…or Harry Potter?"

Harry felt his eyes widen as he looked at her, the fork with his breakfast on it slipping out of his hand. As he looked at Alicia, a part of him wondering just how it was that she knew who he was, who he _really_ was, he found that side of him rearing up again.

The side that just didn't care; if that expression showed on his face, Alicia pretended not to notice; instead, she smiled and nodded, "Yes, I know who you are: I've always known, but I didn't buy into what they said about you. I didn't mind the lie: it was obvious you wanted to be someone else lately…and I hope I was good enough for you."

"I should be angry," Harry sighed, shaking his head as he laughed, "But everything you've done for me is perfect: and…Harry's asking you, Alicia: when can I see you again? I'd like to."

"I know," Alicia replied, using a napkin to wipe a bit of egg from the edge of Harry's lips as she told him, "But that's not my decision."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Harry laughed, "Are you saying you don't control your life?"

"Not at all," Alicia answered, "It's very restful."

"What?" asked Harry, amused at the thought that crossed his mind and, weirdly enough, even more amused as he voiced that thought to her, "Are you some kind of…I don't want to use the word, but…are you a…prostitute?"

"Not as such," Alicia answered, looking to the door of Harry's room before she looked back as she added, "I have my own decisions, but not the outcome."

"I don't follow you."

Alicia sighed and, with the smile that had captured Harry's attention in the first place, she explained, "I do…I go…I do whatever the Dark Lord tells me to do."

Harry's fork fell back onto the plate with a loud crash.

"What?"

"Your freedom…lately," Alicia explained, her voice wavering as she saw his disappointment and his sadness, "Our night together, your blind spot status in the magical world: they were gifts from him."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing: here he was talking about the freedom he'd received from Tom and here she was telling him that He had sent her to him. With a hint of disbelief in his expression, Harry stammered out a few nonsense words before he glanced to the desk next to his bed where he now saw _two_ wands – one his own and the other obviously hers – lying in wait.

Following his gaze, Alicia added, "You can hurt me…if you want; use my wand, you won't get traced."

"No," Harry whispered, looking down at his now-empty plate, though it didn't feel as empty as his heart as he asked, "I don't want to hurt you; you made me believe I couldn't…so I won't."

Even with the words escaping his lips, Harry felt that burning rage build up, but no matter how much it pushed against his thoughts, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he looked to the clearly-frightened Alicia Calico as he asked her, "But…what do you mean…a gift?"

"Me," Alicia explained, "I'm a gift…from him…to you: like…an olive branch."

"An olive branch?" he asked, "From Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"And…what did you do?" asked Harry, suddenly throwing the plate across the room where it smashed against the wall, startling both Harry and Alicia as he faced her, "Huh?"

He rose from the bed, grabbing his boxers as he did so; as he dressed, he rounded on Alicia before he asked, "What was it? A love potion in the perfume? The drink you gave me? The band? What? How is it that you managed to deceive me into…"

"Into loving me?" asked Alicia, stepping back while she kept herself unarmed, her eyes brimming with tears of sorrow and remorse as she told him, "Nothing: absolutely nothing, Harry: he's seen inside your mind and fought with you _so many_ times that…he's come to see you as…an old comrade rather than an enemy."

"A comrade?" asked Harry, "After what he did to me? He could have destroyed my mind, turned me inside out and…you say he's a comrade?"

"And he hopes you'll see him in the same way," Alicia retorted, her eyes filled with her own guilt as she explained, "He doesn't want you to suffer anymore: what happened at the Ministry…with your godfather…and your friends: it shouldn't have happened."

While Harry finished dressing, Alicia retrieved his broken plate and, moving it towards the bin, she explained, "I didn't put anything in any of the things we shared yesterday: when you went to the bathroom, there was a magical interference and I stopped it. I sent the source, which was none other than that war-mongering, life-destroying bastard, Albus Dumbledore, away from you because that was what I was told to do: watch you, protect you and, if you wanted me, I was to become yours."

'Become?' asked Harry, his thoughts filled with so much confusion that he was surprised that he hadn't fainted by now.

Instead, he just listened as Alicia told him, "It wasn't a potion or spell that made you comfort me with that movie, dance in my arms and have sex with me last night: you did that yourself…and I don't regret it…or telling you this: like I said, if you'd like to hurt me, then hurt me…but I'm not your enemy…and neither is he, Harry: not anymore."

Harry felt like he'd been sent on a rollercoaster ride straight through Hell, but there was something about her truth and sincerity with him that, as much as he wanted to do otherwise, it made Harry _want_ Alicia.

It was a feeling that he was used to, but not like this: he wanted to keep her close, to be with her – and not because of any spell or potions as she'd just told him.

Merlin forbid, she'd just confessed to being a member of Voldemort's forces…and yet, Harry couldn't deny it; he _loved_ her!

"So…what happens now?"

Alicia hung her head in sorrow and remorse while she shrugged ruefully as she answered, "I don't know: his orders to me were very clear. I was to watch you and help you once I was certain you would hear me out. Everything about me is real, Harry, even my name: the fact that I was in that café when you were there is no coincidence; I had the others compelled so that they would think I worked there. When we left last night, the charm wore off, but they won't remember me either way."

"Covering your tracks and keeping close to the target," Harry reasoned, shaking his head with amusement as he told her, "I bet Tom _loves_ you."

"Yes," Alicia told him, "He does: I wasn't just some random Death Eater chosen for this meeting; I was someone he trusted because of my way of life and my true self."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

Looking once more to the door of their apartment, Alicia sighed before she asked him, "If I tell you, do you promise not to be angry with me again?"

"I'm already angry," Harry told her, his voice soft as he explained, "But other than that wild-haired psycho who serves him, I have no desires to hurt _any_ young woman. I'm not a monster, Alicia: what is it that you want to tell me?"

"Like I said," Alicia replied, "My name, Alicia Calico, is my real name…on my Mother's side. It's the name I've taken for a long while now and gotten used to it, until just recently…"

"What are you…" Harry began, before the Knut dropped for him and, with widened eyes, he gasped, "No…are you…that is…could you possibly be?"

"I could and I am," replied Alicia, "From my Father's side, you'd know me as Alicia Helena _Riddle_, the daughter of Lord Voldemort."

Harry felt his jaw drop while his heart grew cold in his chest, his eyes as wide as saucers as he asked, "But…why you…why me?"

"Because he wishes to stop the fights between you," Alicia explained, keeping her distance from Harry as she noticed his expression changing from shock to confusion, his eyes wandering once more to the stray wand as she told him, "Like I said, Harry: he doesn't want you to suffer anymore. On the contrary, he wants to offer you the chance to be free of it all: the prophecy, the pain, the Light and the lies and deceitful two-faced nature of their supporters."

"How?" asked Harry, "By joining him? Taking his Mark? Killing for him?"

"No," Alicia replied, giving Harry the smile that had attracted him to her in the first place as she explained, "By accepting the offer he gave you once before and, in doing so, becoming the Dark Prince: his heir to the throne of the Dark…and my love, if you still want me."

Again, Harry felt a modicum of anger rise up inside of him, but as he looked to Alicia's calm sea-blue-coloured eyes, his anger seemed to ebb away once again as he considered everything that she'd said.

Tom didn't want to hurt him: he wanted to help Harry and, for some reason he couldn't quite understand, he saw him as an old comrade, whatever that meant. There was also something about what Alicia had said concerning the events of the Ministry that helped Harry's rage and anger slowly pass away.

She'd said that the events _shouldn't_ have happened: did that mean that Sirius wasn't _meant_ to have died?

Was his mind _meant_ to have been close to destruction by Tom's Legilimency skills and powers?

Was he _meant_ to have used the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix?

Without realising it, Harry found that he had crossed the room and, taking Alicia's arm, he lifted his free hand to her face, brushing a stray hair from her eyes while he told her, "This is…_so_ wrong on so many levels and so confusing, but…if there's one thing I know, it's what I feel in my heart. I don't want to hurt you, Alicia, but at the same time, I can't just up and say that I'm willing to be…your Father's successor to the throne. I need time."

"He'll give it to you," Alicia told him, but she was cut off when Harry shook his head.

"It's not just that," he replied, his voice soft as he wiped the tears from her eyes, "Like I said, I can't deny my heart or my soul and, right now, all I want is to keep you safe. From the punishments that I _know_ he'll give to you if you go back and tell him about my decisions, but also from those who would use you as my allies have used _me_. So, please, Alicia Calico, if you stay with me…here, in my arms, as my girl, then, on my word and honour as a Potter and a wizard, I promise you that I _will_ consider the offer. I can't accept it _now,_ but that doesn't mean I'm not going to…_if_ you stay with me."

"Of course I will," Alicia told him, brushing her lips against his once more before she asked, "But…here? Really?"

"For now," Harry replied, wrapping his arms around his girl as he told her, "Until something better comes along."

Alicia smiled as she lay her head against his chest, all the while unaware of the deep, AK-worthy glow that filled Harry's eyes as he looked to the window of his apartment, noticing a mild rainfall descending over the city.

It seemed appropriate, given that he had just forsaken the path that destiny had given him.

But now, the question was: could he go all the way against that destiny and actually _join_ Tom?

Especially when doing so meant becoming his heir of darkness?

Only time would tell…

**And there we go then: a nice little set-up for the main story and an all right continuation of the sample that I put in the Den: when I write the sequel and actual story, you'll see not only Harry's choice, but also the side-effects of that choice.**

**Oh, and in case anyone forgot, the set-up for this was inspired by the crime drama **_**The Mentalist**_**, so all rights to the original creators there.**

**Like I said, **_**please**_** don't keep asking about the how and when I'll post the sequel; just know that it's an inspirational Work-In-Progress and be patient;**

**What I **_**can**_** tell you is that the sequel will be – ironically – called 'Revenge of the Half-Blood Prince' and will have some surprises along the way.**

**For now, this is DZ2 calling it an end of 'An Old Comrade'**

**Until next time…**


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